Breathe
by blindspottedllama
Summary: [Jeller] "Pneumonia," the doctor had said, "rest." Very light spoiler warning to 4x17. One-shot.


Kurt lay on the bed, his head next to Jane's chest, listening to her breathe. The usual peaceful, soft sounds of air entering and exiting her lungs had been replaced with the heavy sounds of congestion. "Pneumonia," the doctor had said, "rest."

She had been so cold when they got home that he took her straight to bed, cocooning her in endless blankets until she stopped shivering. Her fever had spiked, and though she didn't actually need to be warmed further, it wasn't dangerously high, and it was more important to have her comfortable than fight the technicalities.

It hadn't been long since they had pulled her from the horror of being buried alive, and what had started as a seemingly simple cold had turned into a hacking cough and exhaustion. Jane was struggling to get out of bed and consistently running a fever, so Kurt brought her along to the doctor. "You can't catch a cold from the cold," Jane had insisted, grossly simplifying her trial in the woods. Yet Kurt wasn't having it - it had been a few days, and she was getting worse, not better.

Kurt woke to Jane's fingers in his hair; seemingly he had drifted off to sleep at some point. He tilted his head up to catch her eyes, then pushed up the bed so their heads would be on the same plane. "How are you feeling?" he asked, resting his hand on her waist.

"Like shit," she responded, her voice raspy.

Her curse made him smile. He brought his hand up to cradle her cheek and test the warmth of her forehead. "That good, huh?"

She rubbed her hands together, warming them and stretching her joints. "Would you believe I'm getting cold again?"

He reached his hand under blanket mountain, feeling the sleeve of her pajama shirt. "You're soaked under there. Want a shower and some fresh clothes? Will probably help you feel warmer."

Yawning, she considered his offer. "If you can help me. Given just turning my head is making me woozy, moving isn't such a great idea right now."

She didn't need to ask - he would do anything to make her more comfortable. "Of course. Give me a few minutes to setup, then I'll come get you."

"Thank you." She let her eyes drift closed while she waited for him.

Kurt got their clothes and towels ready, collecting her softest flannel pajamas, then went back to retrieve Jane. "Put your arms around my neck, then I'm going to lift you," he advised.

She followed his instructions, and he carried her to the bathroom. He set her on the closed toilet lid, and she realized, "Now I think I need the bathroom first - can you give me a minute?"

He agreed and left the room to give her privacy. At her call of "okay," he returned to the bathroom to find Jane naked, hunched over sitting with her head in her hands on the closed toilet lid, waiting for him. "Well, hello," he joked.

"I think you're a little overdressed for this occasion," she teased back.

He turned the water on, stripped, and brought her arms around his waist, slowly guiding her into the shower. He did all of the work soaping and shampooing while she rested against his chest, he moving quickly to minimize the amount of time she would need to spend standing. He tried to keep her back beneath the running water to soothe the rattle from her painful breathing, sacrificing any warmth for himself.

Sure they were both thoroughly cleaned, he shut off the water and wrapped her in a towel, guiding her back to sit on the closed toilet lid. He quickly toweled off and pulled on a t-shirt and sweats for himself, then turned to help Jane. He handed her underwear and pajama pants to pull on, and he threaded her arms through a pajama top before buttoning it up. "How's that feel?" he asked.

She assessed that she was warmer and the combination of warmth and steam made her chest feel a little better. "Better. Can you give me a towel for my hair? Want to get it a little drier before laying down."

Instead of handing her the towel, he softly patted her hair with it, then wrapped it around her head to blot a few times before returning it to the rack. Soon she was back in his arms, being slid into bed. "Can I have another pillow under my head? It's kinda hard to breathe like this."

He propped another pillow behind her. "Anything else I can get you?"

"I'm okay for now."

"How about some broth?" He was always trying to feed her.

"Okay."

Kurt kissed her forehead, then left for the kitchen to make her a cup of vegetable broth. Though it only took him a few minutes to return, she was already asleep by the time he brought the broth. Not wanting to wake her, he went back to the living room and finished the broth himself. He slid his book under his arm, then quietly carried his chair from the living room into the bedroom, wanting to keep close watch over her.

* * *

Kurt had made a solid dent in his book when he heard Jane's voice, and he smiled. "No, I don't want a kitten, I want a puppy," she said in sleep.

Though her predominant sleep talking was borne from nightmares, she'd occasionally speak of lighter topics that brought smiles instead of tears. The moments she said something silly in sleep being so few and far between, he always tried to take advantage of them. If he played it right, he could usually get her to respond. "What kind of puppy?" he asked.

Her drowsy voice replied, "A fluffy puppy."

Her word choice uncharacteristically cute, he smiled again. "What's the puppy's name?"

A resolute, "Mailbox."

He chuckled at the off context response, another frequent occurrence when he tried to get her to keep talking. "What color is it?"

He didn't get a response, so he turned back to his book, his smile staying with him across turning several pages.

* * *

The rattle of Jane's deep coughs drew Kurt's attention, and he returned to her side. He helped her sit up and rubbed her back as she hacked over his shoulder. Her forehead glistened with sweat, the small activity and fever wearing her out. She pulled away to lean back into the pillows, and he offered again, "Broth?"

"Okay."

He prepared a mug for her, and this time she was awake when he returned. "You were talking in your sleep again," he shared, sitting beside her on the bed. Most of the fun was in sharing the silliness afterward and laughing with her.

She paused before taking another sip. "What did you get me to do this time?"

His smile pulled the corners of his mouth, his eyes twinkling at the memory. "You gave a puppy a wonderful name: Mailbox."

They both chuckled. "At least that's better than the penchant for shoes."

"Oh, but that landed with you in heels, stretched over the counter…" his eyes glazed at the fond memory.

"Okay, okay." Jane shook her hand at him, coaxing him to stop.

"Do you actually want a dog?" He was curious if her mind was prompting something she had been thinking about.

She finished the last of the broth. "We don't live the lifestyle for a dog right now - it wouldn't be fair."

He set the mug on the side table and wrapped his arm around her back. "But someday, if we ever get one, it's name shall be mailbox."

She rolled her eyes. "Very funny."

Jane cuddled into Kurt, her head resting on his chest, yet able to see his face. "Want to watch a movie?" he asked.

"Sure."

He tucked her hair behind her ear, sneaking a feel of her temperature. "Sick girl's choice. No horror movies."

She chose to join in on the teasing. "Super fluffy puppies?"

He shared an incredulous glare.

She kept up the ruse. "It's a real thing - I promise. Netflix."

He continued sharing the look. "How high is your fever?"

She smiled. "Alright, alright. I'll let Bethany convince you to watch that. _Spirited Away_? Rich recommended that one."

"That I can get behind."

Jane turned her head so she could see the television, and Kurt queued the movie. A few minutes after the movie started, he dropped his eyes to check on her and found she had fallen asleep again. He turned off the movie and focused on his wife, grateful for the rise and fall of her breaths against his chest. She was all he needed.


End file.
